Liam

 

Mae and Josh came over for dinner that evening.

While the kids all play in the back with Guinness, Mae helps clean up in the kitchen.

“I’m sorry that I have to go,” Kensley apologizes again, rushing from our bedroom after having changed into her black shirt and khaki bottoms for the store. We haven’t been able to talk about our conversation from way earlier this morning. Between work and the girls, then with my sister and nephew coming over, it’s almost like the conversation was forgotten about. “It was very nice to meet you, Mae.”

My sister smiles and walks over to give Kensley a hug, before stepped aside as I walk Kensley out to her car. “Tomorrow, we’ll go to Goodwill and grab furniture,” I say, ignoring the lingering question and instead focusing on the easier one.

She agreed to trying to sell one piece of furniture.

“The baby’s stuff has to happen first, Liam.” This was her argument—she isn’t going to renovate items for sale until she has everything set in the house.

Which I absolutely agree with…but we’re also buying another dresser.

Rather than say that, I kiss her. “Wake me when you get home.”

“You’ve been up since one-thirty, Liam.”

I kiss her again, boxing her in against the SUV. “Wake me when you get home.”

This time, she smiles. It’s not her full-smile, and that tells me our early morning conversation has been weighing on her mind, too. “Yes, sir,” she teases instead.

I wink down at her then pull back, allowing her to get into the car. As she reverses from the port, I tap the hood of the SUV then lift my hand in a wave. Through the window, I can see Kensley smile at me.

When she’s safely down the road, I head back into the house.

“She seems nice,” Mae says with a tight smile on her face, when I get back into the kitchen.

“She is. You guys got along well.” I’m trying for small talk, but I feel like Mae is holding something back.

It doesn’t take long for her to say what’s on her mind though.

“I think it’s too fast,” she rushes out, throwing the hand towel down on the counter and crossing her arms. “You’ve known her, what? A month? Two?”

I don’t bother to confirm.

Mae glances out the window and, with her voice low, says, “I think she’s using you.”

“What?” That’s just about the most ridiculous thing my sister could say.

“I mean, look at it, Liam.” She goes to hop up and sit on the counter. “She’s pregnant, ready to pop. Has two kids already. She needed a place to stay…” Mae lifts her shoulders slowly, like those points answered everything.

“One,” I say, holding up a finger. It doesn’t serve to get upset with Mae; she’s just an outsider and telling me what she sees.

However…

Fuck.

It gives warrant to Kensley’s fears.

“I asked her to move in,” I continue. “And two, I’m the one who’s been moving our relationship forward. She’s terrified of it.”

“Are you just looking to settle?” Mae honestly looks confused at all of this.

But the more she probes, the more upset I’m becoming. “Where is this coming from, Mae?”

“You’ve been single for—”

“You’re the one who told me I needed to find someone!”

“I didn’t say move her in in two weeks!”

“It was longer than that.”

“Irregardless.”

“Not a word, Mae.”

“It is when you’re looking to end the conversation.” Mae hops down then. “I think you’re making a mistake. It’s too fast, too soon. Slow it down, Liam. If she’s still around in a year, then move forward.”

There is no way in hell that I’m waiting around for a year.

“Josh and I are going to head out.” Mae comes in for a hug, but the one I give her back is fairly half-assed. I’m pissed. “Just think about it, Liam.”

I walk out with her so I can hug Josh goodbye, then round up the girls for baths. Over the last few days that they’d been here, I’d helped Kensley with their baths on occasion, but I was relying on London to help.

“This one?” I ask, holding up the body wash. Both girls are in the bubble bath of all bubble baths, while I kneel on a fuzzy pink bathmat. “It makes good bubbles.”

“No!” London laughs. “That’s soap, Liam. That one’s the shampoo!”

Sawyer is busy splashing the mounds of bubbles, but every now and then, like right now, gives me her toothy grin.

I reach for the bottle London is pointing at but pick up the white one beside it instead. “This one?”

“No! That’s the con’itioner. The lotion for your hair to make it pretty and soft.”

“Ooh.” I put it back down. “So this one.” I pick up the shampoo and London giggles out her yes.

It’s amazing what these girls and their laughter can do for a bad mood. Mae’s comments are almost long forgotten, as I wash the girls’ hair. Sawyer’s hair is really damn long when it’s wet and I learn after, it snarls like a bitch.

London is sitting on the closed toilet, watching as I brush Sawyer’s hair as she sits on the vanity. “Mama’s got a spray.”

I carefully pick through the latest knot at the end of Sawyer’s hair, trying to hold as tightly by the root as I can. Her whimpers are killing me.

“Yeah? You know where it is?” I give up on the knot and move to comb down another section.

“I have a brush, too,” London says, jumping off the toilet. “It’s an owey-less brush. I’ll go get it!”

I look at Sawyer in the mirror and, even though her eyes are red from tears, she still gives me a smile. “I’m sorry, half pint.”

“’kay, Im.”

London returns quickly, with a green spray bottle and a pink—go figure, pink—brush. I spray the detangler on Sawyer’s hair and, magically, brush right through it.

“That is a magic brush,” I mumble. “We should keep it in here.”

Shrugging, London resumes her spot on the toilet. “Mama didn’t want too much stuff in here, ‘cuz it’s a boy bathroom too.”

I shake my head. Oh, Kensley. “You ladies can have whatever you need in here.”

“Even my bathtub crayons?!” London’s voice is beyond ecstatic.

I don’t exactly know what bathtub crayons are but if they’re for the bath…

I don’t see what would be wrong with them.

“Absolutely. It’s your bathroom too.”

My little blonde fists her hands and shakes them, a big smile on her face. “I’m so excited!”

Even Sawyer dances in her seat, no doubt excited for these crayons too.

“Alright. Teeth, and then it’s time for bed for you, little one.” I poke Sawyer in the side and she giggles.

I like this routine.

And you know, maybe Kensley and I did move fast, but this feel like where I’m supposed to be—where they are supposed to be.

So, who the hell cares what Mae thinks, or anyone else for that matter?

I want to look into the whole custody thing more; I understand what Kensley said on the whole judge’s viewpoint thing, but if the girls are in a safe, loving environment, doesn’t that trump it all?

After Sawyer is tucked into bed, her lovies—stuffed animals—all secure under her blanket with her, London and I head out to the back porch.

“Will we see them again?” she asks as she climbs onto my lap after I’ve laid a blanket down on the grass. Guinness lays down beside us.

Last Friday, London and I caught some of the earlier Lyrid meteor shower activity. Helping a kid wish on shooting stars has become one of my favorite activities. She took so much joy in the simple things, it was hard not to be excited with her.

“I don’t know.” I lay back and she lays comfortably with me. “It doesn’t hurt to watch, though.” I’d rather watch the stars and listen to the crickets, than give her extra screen time, anyway. Funny, I’d never been a guy to be concerned about televisions and whatever, but I was constantly finding other things to do with the girls.

London lays quietly with me. I’m almost convinced she’s asleep, but soon she’s pointing.

“Is that one?”

I search the sky. If she’s pointing, it means it’s slow moving and not a meteor, but I want to actually see it before I break it to her it’s just a plane.

Sure enough, there’s a plane. “Airplane, London. See the red light? Look real close.”

I watch her and fight to not laugh at her squinted expression. “Oh. Oh yeah. That’s an airplane.” She settles in again and is quiet for a solid forty-seconds, before she asks, “You been on a’ airplane, Liam?”

“I have.”

“My daddy has too. All the time. You think he was on that airplane?”

“I don’t know, sweet girl. Maybe.”

“You think that airplane is coming here? Maybe he’ll be at the park tomorrow?”

I honestly don’t know how to answer these questions; London hasn’t ever talked to me about her dad. On the one hand, I’m thrilled she’s finally completely comfortable, but on the other…

If I don’t have answers, I felt like I’m slacking.

I want to have answers for her.

“I’m not sure,” I say instead. “But you, Sawyer, your mama, and me? We’ll have a lot of fun tomorrow anyway.”

“Guinness too?”

“Of course, Guinness too.”

That makes her happy, and, after another ten minutes, I carry her sleeping form into the house.

 

*   *   *

 

I wake with a start.

Looking at the clock, I see it’s barely past midnight.

What woke me? It wasn’t Kensley…

I hear it then.

Guinness growling.

Rubbing my eyes, I get out of bed and head to the door. There, pacing the hallway, is my boxer.

“What’s up, Guinness?”

He stops growling long enough to look at me. Apparently, that’s enough for him, because he moves back to his now normal sleeping spot, between London and Sawyer’s doors.

Unable to sleep without figuring out what bothered the dog, I walk into the rest of the place. I know that I armed the house, but I double check it, just in case.

It’s armed.

I look through the living room and even though the slated blinds are drawn, they’re not tight, and I can see small red lights outside. Frowning, I move closer, looking around the side of the blinds.

A car is idling outside the house.

My only thought is, I need my phone. I need to know that Kensley’s okay. Maybe she called. Maybe…

On the way back to my room, I peek into the girls’ rooms, just to check. I feel unsettled, also needing to know the girls are okay. I have a gut feeling that it’s Mark outside.

Both girls are sound asleep.

Guinness would probably put up a fight if something were to happen to them, anyway.

In my room, I find my phone. I have no messages—voice or text. I dial Kensley’s number and walk back to the living room, with the phone to my ear.

It rings and rings.

I mean, she’s supposed to be at work, so I wouldn’t assume she’d answer but…

“Hey, I can’t answer the phone right now. You know what to do.”

“Hey, Kens. Just wanted to be sure you didn’t come home early.” I look out the blinds again. “There’s a car hanging out and it freaked Guinness. Call before you head home. Please.”

I’m not falling back to sleep anytime soon, so I plopped down on the couch and thumb mindlessly through my phone, keeping the room dark. It’s at least thirty minutes later, when I hear the car leave.

So fucking weird.

I’m nearly dozing on the couch when my phone startles me.

Kensley.

“Hey.”

“Are you okay? Are the girls okay?” Her voice is laced with panic.

“The car’s gone. I just didn’t want you to come home if it was still out there.”

“Who was it?”

“Are you in your car?” I ask instead. I don’t want her distracted as she walks out of the grocery store.

“I am.”

“Doors locked?”

“You’re kind of scaring me, Liam.”

“Guinness was pacing and growling, Kens. He’s not that kind of dog. I don’t know who the car was but I…” I shrug and put the thought to voice, “I wonder if it was Mark. Do you know if he’s in town again?”

“He might be.”

I want to talk to her, but I also don’t want her sitting in a damn-near quiet parking lot. “Can you put me on hands free? Talk to me while you head home? It would make me feel better.”

“You?” Kensley’s laugh is dry and laced with nerves. “It would make me feel better, too.”

She puts me on auto and as she drives the fifteen minutes back to the house, we don’t talk about the car, but about stupid bullshit—some crazy teenagers who came into the store, London and her stars, and then I gave her hell, teasingly, for not putting that spray and brush in the bathroom.

Soon, her headlights illuminate the living room and we hang up with one another. I move to disarm the system and help her into the house, only to reset the alarm right away.

“I have to see them,” she whispers and, yeah, I get it.

“I checked on them too,” I admit, and it earns me her hand slipping in mine, then squeezing.

Once Kensley is satisfied with the girls, and she gives Guinness a good rub on his cheeks and a kiss between his eyes, we head to our bedroom.

She undresses quickly, pulling on her bed clothes, and as soon as she’s in bed, I sit at the foot-end to rub her ankles.

“If it was Mark, I wonder what he would have been doing here? Sharon wouldn’t have told him we were here.”

I press my thumbs into the arch of her foot, and shrug. “I don’t know. Honestly. Maybe he’s trying to get a broader picture. Maybe he’s trying to see and prove that you’re living here, with a guy who’s not him.” It pains me to say it, but the car, and Mae, and Kensley’s fears last night…

Maybe it’s all true.

Maybe the speculation is going to be the deciding factor in everything.

“I don’t want to lose you or the girls,” I say softly. “I only want to do things that make life easier for you guys, because I love the three of you so fucking much.”

Kensley tugs her foot away from me and lays down, patting my side of the bed. “Come here.”

I do, and then pull the covers up over our shoulders. Normally Kensley turns her back and we spoon through the night, but she wants to talk. Instead of turning, then, she entwines her legs with mine and pulls me as close as her belly allows. Not even thinking about it, I slip my hand under her sleep shirt, to rest on her stomach.

“Baby good tonight?” I rub the spot my hand is resting on.

“Baby’s good.”

I rub a little harder; larger circles now.

“Don’t you wake him up,” Kensley warns.

My hand stops, and I consider her face, her words. “Do you think it’s a boy?”

Her face twists in thought before she takes a deep breath. “I do. But I’m not sure how much of that is mother’s intuition, and how much of that is fear.”

Again, I make my promise to her. “I will do everything I can to keep you all safe and under this roof. I promise.” And I will. Whether that’s by sharing the radio tape with a judge, with the children’s bureau, with family services…whoever the hell I have to share it with, I will. Not only does Mark have terrible words for the mother of his children, he blatantly said he’d want to be in the baby’s life if it’s a boy and implied he didn’t care for his daughters because they were girls.

No judge is going to split those kids up so that their father got their brother, leaving the girls at their mom’s, wondering what they did wrong.

“When’s your next appointment?” She’d had a couple since we first got together but I kind of want to—

“Monday.”

“Do you think I could come with?”

“It’s at nine.”

“I’ll call in sick.”

Kensley smiles at me in the dark, reaching up to pat my cheek. “You will do no such thing. The next one, if you really want, I can schedule for an afternoon.”

“When will that be?”

“Two weeks.”

“Okay.” I can make that work. I could make Monday work too, but if Kensley was going to go all mom on me…

She leans in to press a kiss to my lips gently, her hand still on my cheek. “Hey, Liam?” she whispers before she lays back down and moves to her other side, shifting her ass back into me.

“Yeah, Kens?” I snake my arm under her pillow and my other drapes over the top of her belly, my forearm brushing her breasts—and making her moan on a sigh. It’s been a few nights since I last made her come—both on my tongue and cock—but the girls will be awake in five hours.

Kensley needs to sleep.

“Thank you for loving my girls,” she whispers, and I press a kiss to her shoulder.

“Always.”

“And for loving me.”

“Forever.”

She lets that hang in the air, but then she’s asking for me again. “Hey, Liam?”

I chuckle against her skin. “Hey, Kensley?”

She wraps her arms up so she’s holding my arm that’s banded across her chest. “I love you, too.”

I have to fight from tightening my arm, from squeezing her back to me. “Yeah?” My heart is soaring in my chest at the declaration.

“I do.”

“Good. That’s really good, baby.”

I could fall asleep happy with those words ringing in my ears.

In fact, I’m just about there, ten or so minutes later when she whispers, “Are you still awake?”

“Mmm.”

I feel her shifting and I open my eyes in time to see her look over her shoulder. Her stare is hard and intent, and for the first time since I dropped the quitting-the-store thing on her, she looks completely happy again.

Kensley shifts as best as she can, pressing the lightest of kisses to my lips before setting back down to the pillow. Then, with words incredibly soft, but full of emotion, she says, “I’d love to marry you.”